By Manolis, Rhetoric Trainer, Educator, Citizen of the World

1. The most important speech you will ever give is the ongoing conversation you have with yourself. Learn to make it honest, generous, and worth listening to.

2. Aristotle was right that rhetoric is not the art of persuasion. It is the art of discovering the available means of persuasion. The discovery matters more than the victory.

3. Every student who finds their voice adds something irreversible and good to the world. Teaching is therefore an act of permanent creation.

4. Ursula Le Guin understood what most political scientists miss: that the deepest revolutions happen in the imagination before they happen in the streets. And the most dangerous revolutionary tool is a story told so well you forget it is political.

5. Kazantzakis did not promise us that the effort would be rewarded. He promised us something better: that a life of full effort is its own justification. “You have your brush, you have your colours, you paint paradise, then in you go.” Fifty years in, I believe him.

6. Democracy is not a destination. It is a practice, daily, imperfect, and only as strong as the citizens willing to argue for it in good faith and return to the table even after losing.

7. Isaac Asimov taught us that the most dangerous phrase in any language is “We’ve always done it this way.” The second most dangerous is “Someone else will fix it.”

8. Meditation is not the absence of thought. It is learning to watch your thoughts the way a good rhetor watches an audience, with curiosity, without attachment, and without the compulsion to immediately respond.

9. Classical Athens was flawed, exclusionary, and brilliant. We honour it best not by idealising it, but by finishing the work it left incomplete.

10. The adolescent who stands up in a Model UN committee and argues for the dignity of a country not their own is practising the deepest form of empathy available to a young mind.

11. James Tiptree Jr. wrote under a pseudonym because the world was not yet ready to hear what she had to say in her own name. Remember this every time you assume the playing field is level.

12. Reading is the most intimate form of communication across time. When you open a book, someone who may have been dead for centuries leans across the distance and says: here is what I figured out. Treat the invitation with the respect it deserves.

13. The body carries the argument too. Posture, breath, the pause before a well-chosen word, these are not ornaments to speech. They are its foundation, and the well placed pause is the most powerful device you will never find in a textbook.

14. You cannot teach critical thinking without modelling it. The moment you stop questioning your own assumptions in front of your students, you become a monument instead of a teacher.

15. Ursula Le Guin's The Dispossessed is the finest political science textbook never assigned in a political science course. Correct this wherever you can.

16. The word demos does not mean “the people” in the abstract. It means these people, here, now, with all their contradictions. Governing the abstract is easy. Governing these people requires wisdom, and the willingness to be surprised by them.

17. There is no such thing as an unbiased source. There are only sources that are honest about their bias and sources that are not. Teach your students to tell the difference, and model it in your own reading.

18. Fifty is not half of something. It is the beginning of the version of you that knows enough to be genuinely useful.

19. The hero in the best science fiction does not save the world through superior firepower. They save it through superior understanding. This is the argument for education, rendered in narrative form, and it is irrefutable.

20. Gratitude is not a feeling. It is a practice. And like all practices, it gets better with repetition and degrades with neglect.

21. A debate you win by making your opponent feel small is a debate you have actually lost. You have merely postponed receiving the invoice, and interest accrues.

22. The Protreptikos tradition understood something we have forgotten: that the best argument for a philosophical life is not abstract, it is the demonstration of a life visibly well-examined.

23. Comics are philosophy with better pacing. The panel gutter, that blank space between frames where the reader’s imagination completes the action, is structurally identical to the rhetorical technique of leaving room for the audience to arrive at the conclusion themselves.

24. Asimov’s Foundation is not a story about predicting the future. It is a story about the ethics of trying to shape it, and the deeply uncomfortable question of who gets to decide, and at what cost to those who were not consulted.

25. Multilingual youth are not confused. They are richer. Every additional language is an additional set of conceptual tools for thinking about what is real, what is possible, and who is allowed to imagine what.

26. Social improvement is not a project with a completion date. It is a direction of travel. The question is never "Are we there yet?" but "Are we still moving the right way?"

27. An adult educator who forgets that adults already know things is not an educator. They are an obstacle wearing the costume of one.

28. The ancient concept of kairos, the right moment for the right word, cannot be taught directly. It is cultivated through attention, presence, and the discipline to wait when every instinct tells you to speak.

29. A good podcast, listened to while walking through a city, is one of the quiet miracles of our age. It means that on any given Tuesday morning you can have a serious, generous thinker walking beside you through traffic, offering their best thinking directly into your ear. Do not take this lightly. Curate accordingly.

30. Tiptree’s best stories hurt because they are accurate. Good science fiction is not about the future. It is a mirror aimed at the present that lacks the social permission to lie.

31. You cannot separate rhetoric from ethics. The attempt to do so produced propaganda. Keep the two together, in your practice and in your teaching, always.

32. Meditation taught me that most of the noise in my head is not thinking. It is old arguments I forgot to close. Close them. The house will not fall.

33. The student who pushes back hardest is the one paying the most attention. And the young person who stands up to speak for the first time, voice uncertain, knees uncertain, is performing an act of courage. Neither deserves impatience. Both deserve witnesses.

34. Every heroic narrative is, at its core, an argument for the possibility of individual moral agency within systems that prefer you passive. Read them accordingly. Teach them accordingly.

35. Political cynicism is not sophistication. It is exhaustion wearing the mask of wisdom. Name it for what it is, in the room, and in yourself first.

36. The best recommendation letter you will ever write is the one where you stake your own credibility on someone else’s potential. Write more of those letters.

37. The most disorienting and liberating insight in the history of philosophy is Socratic: that knowing you do not know is itself a form of knowledge, and a rare one. Most intellectual failure is not stupidity. It is the confident occupation of the space where doubt should be. Tend your ignorance carefully. It is more valuable than much of what you think you know.

38. Science does not give us certainty. It gives us better calibrated uncertainty. Teaching the difference between those two things is one of the most genuinely subversive acts available to an educator.

39. Le Guin said that we read fiction to find out what we already know but have not yet said. This is also what the best debates do.

40. The impulse to share what you have learned is not ego. It is, when honest and generous, one of the most reliable expressions of love available to an intellectual life.

41. Breathing before you speak is not a technique. It is a philosophy: I am choosing to be present in this moment before I fill it with my words. The world gets better sentences from people who have remembered to breathe.

42. The Διττοί Λόγοι, the double arguments, teach us that the strongest position is the one that can articulate the opposing view better than the opposition can. You have not mastered your argument until you have honoured theirs.

43. Heroic fiction from the margins, by Le Guin, Tiptree, Octavia Butler, expanded the definition of who gets to be the hero. This was not a literary development. It was a moral correction, and it is still working its way through the culture.

44. Community is not built by people who agree. It is built by people who have learned how to disagree without ending the relationship, which requires goodwill. And goodwill is not naivety. It is the strategic choice to assume that the person across from you has reasons, even when those reasons are wrong.

45. There is a specific joy, irreplaceable, untransferable, Greek in its bones, in watching a film at a summer cinema under an open sky, the sound of the neighbourhood audible between scenes, the jasmine doing its thing. Some pleasures do not scale. Protect them.

46. The examined life is not necessarily a comfortable life. But it is the only life from which genuine wisdom can be extracted. Socrates was right about this, even if his method left something to be desired at dinner parties.

47. To become a better speaker, first learn to be a better listener.

48. Fifty years of observation leads me to this: the people who have made the deepest difference in the world were almost never the most powerful people in the room. They were the most present.

49. The work is not finished. It was never going to be finished. That is not a source of despair. It is the guarantee that your effort remains necessary, and that there is always a reason to show up tomorrow.

50. And finally: Χρόνια πολλά. Many years, like my surname. Not just in number, but in depth, in the widening circle of people whose thinking is a little sharper, a little freer, a little more their own because you were in the room, at the table, on the page, present and generous and still, after fifty years, genuinely curious about what happens next.

With gratitude for the fifty years behind, and genuine curiosity about every one still ahead.

Just yesterday, I uploaded a post that I was not very happy about it after I finished. I did edit two typos but I decided against doing major changes or adding all those things that came to me after I finished writing it. The reason is simple. I had to struggle against inaction.

inaction

/ɪnˈakʃn/

noun

1. lack of action where some is expected or appropriate / failure to do anything that might provide a solution to a problem

2. lack of action or activity

3. idleness

Synonyms: inertness, nonaction, quiescence

Inaction has two dimensions. The first has to do with the fact that it is easier not to do something than actually doing it. Idleness conserves energy. Starting is the most difficult thing and this is why it has been said that “a job begun is a job half done”.

Once you overcome the hurdle of starting, you have to face the hurdle of actually finishing! Perfectionism creeps in and you are never completely satisfied, and you keep finding new things to add, and you want to make new changes and … you never finish. The fear of exposing your work to criticism compounds the issue and then you end up not doing anything. This is the second dimension of inaction. Both are enemies of getting things done, of moving forward, of achieving your dreams.

In the past I had to struggle with both of them.

But I did not struggle yesterday.

And I do not struggle today.

I want to edit and improve but not by “fixing” my (usually imaginary) “mistakes”. Instead, I want to keep overcoming inertness, fear of exposure and perfectionism. These are the enemies of actually working towards achieving your dreams, of actually doing things. By doing, you simply become better of getting things done, just like this post that I just finished in time.

Today, the 15th of May 2024, I attended a public debate organized by the Hellenic Debate Federation and the Foreign Press Association of Greece in downtown Athens at Romantso, two blocks away from Omonia Square. I haven’t attended a public debate for a long time and I had not walked near Omonia from before Covid19.

Debating has been a big part of my life.  Ever since I re-joined the Deree College Debating Club in September 1998, more than 25 years ago, I haven’t really stopped my involvement with debating. For about 10 years, I competed or adjudicated at several national and international university  debating tournaments that gave me the opportunity to visit Manilla (WUDC1999), Rotterdam (EUDC1999 and DAPDI1999), Aberdeen (EUDC2000),  Glasgow (WUDC2001), Ljubljana (EUDC2001), Stellenbosch (WUDC2002),  Zagreb (EUDC2003) , St. Petersburg (Open2001), Dublin (WUDC 2006) and cities all over Greece for several high school tournaments. 

Something that started as a university hobby, soon became an integral part of my life and increasingly a focus in my academic and professional endeavors. I am proud to have contributed to the creation and development of the Greek language highschool rhetoric arts scene.

Public debates are rare so, when they occur, they are worth attending.

The first two involve speaking while standing in front of an audience without a text. Impromptu Speaking is a short 2’-3’ extemporaneous speech based upon the choice of a prompt (in our case a word, a phrase or an image) with only 1’ of preparation time. Oratory is a prepared speech, in our case of just 3’-4’, where the speaker has chosen their topic and present it in a structured and persuasive manner. If Impromptu aims to delight and dazzle with quick thinking, fluency, relaxed body language and witty points, Oratory aims to move, to persuade and to convince with the use of compelling arguments, illustrative examples and confident use of body language.

Oral Interpretation of Literature is different. On first glance, this event looks much easier than the other two. Speakers choose an extract from a work of published literature that, along with a short spoken introduction, should be read while seated, between 3’ and 4’. But appearances can be deceiving. Almost everyone can read. But to read with a clear and colourful yet confident voice that has variety in speed and volume, good use of meaningful pauses and corresponding facial expressions, is anything but easy. A great performance requires a lot of practice, confidence and a well trained voice. The choice of text is crucial as a story with an engaging plot with several characters, whose different timbers should be sustained and their emotional states illustrated, is far more demanding from a monologue or a plain description of scenery. A good introduction can offer necessary context, set the mood and create expectations that will increase the enjoyment of the performance.

No, Oral Interpretation of Literature is not easier from the other two events. Just different. Each event aims to cultivate skills that complement each other and build the profile of all around public speakers that can confidently employ their vocal and physical expressive abilities, demonstrate quick thinking and reasonable argumentation and connect with the audience. Oral Interp, as it is known in the competitive circuit, can be a very rewarding event that can offer delight to the listeners and confidence to the speakers, while highlighting great works of literature in a short period of time. A great performance will convince you to read or happily re-read a work of literature that will add in your appreciation of human creativity and human activity.

Yes, Oral Interpretation of Literature is great.

So it was no surprise that I was about to fail at the 5 mile run I had to complete in order to be accepted at the second week of Diver Training during my conscription service at the Hellenic Navy. My fellow trainees helped and I barely made it. After this month of intense physical training, I was as fit as I would ever be in my life. But I did not pick the habit of running or regular exercise and my fondness for a beer once in while and my sweet tooth added pounds and feelings of remorse for my personal failings to maintain my fitness.

I regained my physical confidence when I started running together with Michael, a Dutch-American classmate of mine at Deree College where I was pursuing a degree in Economics parallel to my studies at the Department of Political Science and Public Administration at the University of Athens. We run regularly at the College’s stadium and we even created a morning runners’ club with other classmates of ours. Our highest achievement was to participate at the College annual relay run where a team of 7 people would consecutively run a total of 70 kilometers. I was very content and I am still proud that I finished my share of 10kms in under an hour of running. I felt that the running streak would continue…

But life happens and more than two decades passed since I picked up running in the morning again. I started slowly at first, without aiming to jog for more than 10 minutes. But I kept running at least twice a week and then three or even four times per week, almost every other day. I still do and now that I share my morning runs with a recent acquaintance, I find that I am more motivated to go running, even if I feel groggy at some mornings, and that I am gradually able to run for longer.

The best part is that I find that I sleep better. Regular exercise does have several health benefits and better quality sleep is the most important as Arnold Schwarzenegger mentions at his regular email “The Positive Corner of the Internet”

I was born in Chania, Crete and was raised in Athens by two Greek parents, first at Goudi (a downtown Athenian neighbourhood near my parents’ work), then Holargos and, when I finished the 4th grade of Elementary school, we moved at the exact dividing line of the municipalities of Nea Erythrea and Kifissia. I attended Greek State Schools in Holargos and Kifissia, both rather leafy northern Athenian suburbs. Greek is the language we spoke at home, the language I was taught in School. My native language is Greek, ελληνικά.

I started learning English when I was at the second grade of Elementary school but we were not taught English there. My parents had arranged private lessons with Mrs Wendy, an English language tutor from New Zealand that was living at an apartment block on Perikleous Avenue, Holargos, near my elementary school, not far from the 2nd floor apartment my parents were renting at that time. I have very fond memories of language games I played with her, of singing children rhymes and of reading simple stories. I can’t possible forget the thick carrot cake slices that accompanied most of the lessons, despite that these were memories from about 40 years ago!

It is when we moved to Nea Erythrea that I begun proper lessons of English at a Foreign Language School my parents enrolled me. One striking memory there was the news of the Challenger Space Shuttle explosion on January the 28th,1986. Alongside my classmates and my teacher we were horrified to watch the news of the failed launch. I was 10 years old when I learned the words disaster and catastrophe, both of Greek origin.

Are these enough to now write in English? It is not the time and place to narrate in detail how certain experiences, situations and activities led me to continuously use and improve my english that now gives me the ability to write in this adopted language (whether fluently or not it is up to you to judge). I can, but should I? Why not write in Greek?

My motivation is twofold. I want to write in English because I want to continue improving my mastery of the language (use it or lose it) but also because this gives me an opportunity to interact with substantially larger number of readers. I do not underestimate nor diminish the importance of Greek. But the difference in numbers is staggering.

Being creative or, in our case, inventive about something to write about, is a must for writers but does not come easily. Inspiration for the ancient rhetoricians was a muse, a playful and generous spirit, that visited them sparingly and rather randomly despite all efforts to invite her at will. The trick was to be prepared so that when she does arrive to be able to make the best out of her visit: have your notebook and pen handy (a smart phone nowadays comes handier, literally) and always be observant, as the signs of inspiration can be elusive to those that do not pay attention. In other words, be physically and psychologically available to welcome the muse who visits most those who can be gracious and gratefully welcoming hosts to her visit.

In my case, and as a way to honor my commitment to write something interesting (at least to me) every single day, I waited till almost midnight for the visit of the muse but now that she is here I gladly followed her lead in explaining how she collaborates best with those who want to keep her good company. She confided to me that writing is rather similar with appetite, it becomes stronger as you patiently hold your hunger high while waiting for the dish to be served without rushing carelessly and sloppily. Creativity can have a dimension of class and good taste that does not try to prove something to anyone, but simply enjoy the esthetic experience of it. So what to write? Start by writing about writing and all your writings that follow will be creative! That is my deal with the muse and you are all welcome to observe whether this deal will be honored.

Writing these lines is just another way to break away from the spell of perfectionism. I have no illusions. I am no great writer, actually I am not a writer at all. Writers write and I have been wanting to write for so long I have forgotten to actually start.

I created this substack three years ago and it’s only today, out of a whim, that I started writing this post as a way to dispel the cloud of hesitation.

The purpose of this post is to be able to read it tomorrow and verify that I have actually begun writing and that it is just another bead on the koboloi of my self-recovery.

~~~

Facebook reminded me that 11 years ago I befriended Anthony, a Kenyan who emigrated to Greece. We met at a book presentation at Hilton Hotel 13 years ago, where we both made a comment/ asked a question to the speaker/ book author of “Prosperity Unbound”. We exchanged contact information and I mentioned about HAU Athens Toastmasters, where, at the time, I was an active member. Anthony soon became a member too and 13 years later, after countless short videos at Facebook and LinkedIn and two books, he hosts a a successful vlog “Now Tell Us” where he creates compelling interview with notable people from different walks of life, many of them book authors like himself.

I mention Anthony because he followed an advice I gave him: “Start doing and be consistent about it.” He did. Now, I want to follow my own advice (always more difficult when you apply it to yourself) and imbue more meaning in what I do.

See you tomorrow!

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